


Hearts Blossom like Flowers

by RoughledFeathers



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Florist AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4036027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoughledFeathers/pseuds/RoughledFeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama Tobio has never been very fond of flowers, but when he needs a bouquet, he finds himself walking into his local flower shop. One of the florists catches his attention, and before he can stop it, flowers become much more prevalent in his life.<br/>Hinata Shouyou has always loved flowers dearly, and works at a small flower shop. On a slow day, a new customer comes in, and soon enough makes himself a regular. Though Hinata doesn't see anything coming of it, he can't help himself growing fond of the new customer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. -01-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama POV

     My name is Kageyama Tobio, and I am not very fond of flowers. Flowers are fragile, temporary, and weak; here one moment and gone the next. The come in too many varieties, some of which are simply obnoxious and others that are actually hazardous. They try to look inviting and friendly in their bright, flashy colors and sweet scents, but all too quickly lose those vibrant colors and wilt. Flowers are awful, they’re like people, and I hate people.

     Well, okay, hate may be edging towards an exaggeration, but I definitely don’t like people. Similar to flowers, people are too fragile, only temporary. There are too many types of people, too many variables, too many circumstances, rendering them unpredictable. There’s no way to classify what a dangerous person looks like, or what a beneficial person looks like. It’s all guesswork and luck. And worst of all, people succumb to things like cancer and leave you alone with your emotionally distant father when you’re only 12.

     I sigh as I stuff my wind bitten hands in my coat pockets, wishing those thoughts away. It wasn’t her fault, I remind myself; it isn’t as if she’d asked for cancer. It wasn’t her fault that humans are born brittle. Breakable. I continue pacing down the street, watching my visible breath dissipate in the cold. I’m notorious for being a generally grumpy person, but I’m not really this sullen on an average day. But today isn’t average; it’s a bad day and it has been for eight years. My mom died on this day, so it’s hard to not let that fact bring me down several notches.

     I finally arrive at the door of the small shop I was looking for; a little flower shop nestled between a slightly larger bookstore and a wide shoe store. I walk down this street daily, yet I’ve never stopped by this place until today. Every previous year I’d just bought a small bouquet from a big brand store, or let my dad handle the flowers by himself. This year, though, I decided to try supporting one of the smaller businesses in town, hoping their flowers would be better. I looked at the store front in hesitation before finally pressing on, ignoring the chime of the bell tied above the door.

     I started to scan the flowers and, predictably, there were many different types. The mess of colors and mixing scents was actually rather nauseating, and I found myself hoping I would be able to leave the shop quickly. Fortunately I already knew what flower I was looking for, I just needed to pick them out.

     Soon enough, while I was looking around, I felt a presence approach behind me, so I turned around. I didn’t actually see anyone until I looked _down_ though. A man, possibly my age if not a year younger with round, bright amber eyes smiled up at me. The man was much shorter than myself, probably only measuring up to my collarbone. I would describe him as a ginger, but that didn’t really cut it; he had absurdly wild _flaming orange_ hair. He was cute, I’ll give him that. When I glanced further down, I noticed the earthy green apron, leading me to believe he works here.

     He bounced on his feet, “Hello! Can I help you find anything?” He asked, voice light and sincere. Given my sour mood, his enthusiasm was actually rather aggravating.

     I noncommittally shrugged, “Do you have any violets?” The shorter man continued bouncing on his feet before happily nodding and chirping, “Of course. One moment please.” He then wandered off, leaving me by myself.

     Figuring it would be best to just stay put, I stood in place, looking out the store front’s large glass windows. After several minutes with no further sign of the short florist, I approached the cash register and leaned on the counter, crossing my arms. Shortly after, the redhead came bounding up, presenting a small bouquet of violets proudly. The florist smiled cheerily before handing the flowers my way, “How do they look?”

     I examined the flowers with admittedly little interest. He had wrapped the purple flowers in a soft lavender tissue paper adorned with a dark purple ribbon-bow. The flowers themselves were definitely violets, that’s for sure. I would never be able to forget what violets look like, as my mother _adored_ them. She had small patches growing in the front yard (on either side of the door’s walkway), as well as a slightly larger garden in the back yard. She had a few in pots along the kitchen window, and she always used violet scented shampoos and perfumes. Violets were her favorite flower, and now the smell of violets was actually slightly nauseating to me. The memories were very bittersweet.

     I shrugged at the cashier, “Looks fine, thanks.” He smiled wider and started tapping on the register. He announced the price, so I handed him a couple bills from my wallet, absently noticing that his hands were rather soft and very warm. Mine probably felt like ice. He handed me the change, so I pocketed the coins and prepared to leave, tucking the flowers in the crook of my arm.

     Before I could turn away, the short cashier had apparently decided he wasn’t ready to let me leave yet. “ _So._ ” He started, “D’you have a date? Did you just make them mad?” He smiled innocently, like he actually cared about my answer and like he _wasn’t_ intruding on my privacy.

     I scowled at him, “Neither. Besides, it’s none of your business.” He kept smiling, unperturbed by my tone. It began grating my nerves. I was already on a short fuse today, I didn’t need this right now, or ever.

     Luckily for both of us, he relented, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Okay, okay. Well, my name’s Hinata Shouyou. It’s nice to meet you!” He reached a hand forward in offering. I stared at it blankly; what was with this guy?

     “Uh, I’m Kageyama Tobio.” I reached for his hand and shook it awkwardly.

     “So, now that we’re familiar with each other,” Hinata started, “are you planning on asking someone out? Is it a birthday present? C’mon, you can tell me.” His eyes shone in mischievousness. This prick.

     My scowl returned and deepened as the last shred of my patience broke. As if I was going to tell this guy about my private life. That was none of his damn business. “It doesn’t matter, dumbass.” I bit. My cheeks were probably reddening in frustration, and the last thing I wanted was for this idiot to think he’d _embarrassed_ me.

     Then, to retaliate my answer, Hinata did the last thing I would have expected another 20 year old to do. He stuck his tongue out at me and blew a raspberry, before crossing his arms and petulantly responding, “Fine! I don’t care anyway.”

     That was enough to officially lose my temper, but before I could start lashing at Hinata, my phone started vibrating in my pocket and my alarm tone was sounding. I belatedly realized I had been wasting time I needed to spend getting ready and muttered a few curses while I turned the alarm off. I looked to Hinata a moment, he was curiously looking back, before lamely supplying, “I uh, I gotta go.”

     He seemed to understand, as he simply nodded and called a friendly “Come again!” as I was on my way out. I quickly turned halfway and blankly returned the wave he gave me. I was very much drained after that encounter.

     Hinata Shouyou, huh? He was cute, definitely, with his tiny stature, wild orange hair, and those bright eyes. But he was also a huge pain; he acted like a spoilt kid. But still, maybe I’ll stop by again… Probably not.

     In the meantime, I needed to go home, drive out of town, stop by a grave, and have an awkward evening with my out of touch father.


	2. -02-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata POV

     My name is Hinata Shouyou and I simply love flowers. I’ve loved flowers since I was very young and always hoped I would be able to work with them. Flowers are awesome! They radiate cheeriness with bright colors and lovely scents. I love the mass variety of flowers that exist, because they are all so different and unique to themselves. Some need a little more encouragement to grow than others may, but I’ve always found those to be the most precious. They may need a little more attention, but those flowers are always the most radiant, the most beautiful.

     I feel much the same about people. Everyone is special, unique, and gorgeous in their own way. Even the less appealing people have redeeming qualities if one is willing to look for them. Just like flowers, some people just need more encouragement to grow, but it’s always worth the effort. Those people always have the most brilliant personalities. I love people about as much as I love flowers, and I honestly love flowers a lot.

     I slumped against the front counter with a lazy sigh and surveyed the shop for the thousandth time _this hour_. I love working as a florist, don’t get me wrong, but I was working the shop by myself today, and it’s been amazingly slow all day. When my coworker and boss, Suga, called late yesterday and asked if I would mind running the shop by myself, I was all too happy to accept. But now that I was actually here, lacking the antics Suga and I always get into, it was, well. It was _boring._ Our shop isn’t terribly busy on any given day already (with the exception of some holidays like Valentine’s and Mother’s Day) but today was bordering ridiculous. There are usually some airheaded spouses that needed a quick anniversary gift, or an “I’m sorry” bouquet. There’s usually some sort of business.

     Then finally, during the early evening, the bells above the door rattled. I looked up to see a tall man in relatively nice clothing step into the shop. I jumped at the opportunity to interact with a customer, quickly making my way up to him. One of my favorite parts of this job is helping customers pick out the best flowers for whatever the occasion may be, and learning about the people that come in the shop. This man I noticed, when I walked toward him, was taller than I’d originally thought; towering above me easily. He had black hair that hung loosely just past the nape of his neck. When he turned around I was met with tired, unsettling navy eyes. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to learn more than face value; he seemed very disinterested in everything.

     By the time he left with his violet bouquet, I only learned his name. He was adamant in not revealing anything about himself, or the reason he was buying flowers. In the end, Kageyama wound up rushing out after an alarm went off. I guess pestering him to chat had put him behind schedule. I resumed leaning against the counter, forearms resting against the cool glass and huffed. Kageyama was attractive on the surface, for sure, but I wanted to know what lay beyond that.

     I closed up the shop a couple hours later, after helping a tired old businessman who had forgotten about his anniversary. He was grateful when he left, and made sure he’s thanked me a handful of times. On the walk back to my apartment, I suddenly remembered Kageyama and our encounter, and briefly wondered if the quiet man would stop by the shop again. Today had been his first time visiting our shop (that I knew of, anyway), but maybe… I cut my thoughts off there, shaking my head rapidly. Shouyou, don’t get your hopes up for no reason. He’s probably in a relationship already, why else would he be buying flowers? Duh. If anything, Kageyama coming back to the shop would only confirm that he’s definitely involved with someone already.

     By the time I finally reached the door to my apartment, my fingers were nearly frozen stiff; enough so that unlocking the door was difficult. My roommates, consisting of my best friend Kenma and his boyfriend Kuroo, were snuggled up together on the couch under a blanket. They both offered a greeting as I walked past the couch which I half-heartedly returned. I stopped behind the couch and stared at the screen, curious about what they were watching. When I saw subtitles and realized I couldn’t understand what they were saying, I assumed it was one of those foreign art films Kuroo’s friend Tsukishima often recommended. Kenma was likely only there to steal Kuroo’s body heat, having admittedly little interest in most movies in general, let alone films he doesn’t understand.

     After standing around for a few minutes more, I started to lose my focus, finding myself picturing me and someone else snuggled up rather than the obscure plot of the film. When the picture got detailed enough to notice the eyes I looked into were piercing blue and intense, I jolted and decided it was time to go. Kenma quietly asked if I was alright, to which I simply shook my head and smiled, claiming I was just tired. It wasn’t a complete lie, and Kenma accepted it, turning back to the screen.

     I made my way to our small bathroom and turned the faucets on, stripping slowly while I waited for the water to warm. Once under, I savored the feel of the warm water on my still cool skin and dozed off quickly. I snapped out of it when I realized whose face was continuing to plague my mind with his pale skin and those unsettling blue eyes. I hit my head against the tile once, rubbing my face. It seemed I’d never forget those damned eyes, with their sleepless bruises. Damnit, I’ve met him _once_ ; stop pining, Shouyou. I probably won’t even see him again.

     After drying off, getting dressed, and dragging myself back to my room, I crawled into bed. I closed my eyes and chastised myself. I know how I am with crushes. It’s why I hate developing them. They don’t actually happen all that often, but when I _do_ crush on someone, it usually starts shortly after I meet them, and it never goes away. Well, it does fade eventually, after it’s forced to because that person ends up dating their slightly older childhood best friend and highschool volleyball team captain. But that’s beside the point: crushes linger with me until I’m in ruins. And currently there was a set of blue eyes intent on showing up every time I closed my eyes.


	3. -03-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama POV

     After the lengthy night I had, it was no surprise I woke up the next morning exhausted. I spent most of last night with my father, supervising him while he drunk himself to sleep. Fortunately keeping my father from hurting himself proved to be enough of a distraction to keep my own feelings in check. When he was finally finished drinking (or rather, was just about black out drunk), it was an entirely new ordeal trying to get him home. It was only after he was safely passed out in his own home (on the couch because there was no way I was climbing the stairs with him) did I leave for home. As luck would have it, though, I got there at nearing three in the morning. In combination with nightly rituals, this put me at getting to sleep at three-forty. On a night before I had work, this was a problem.

     Waking up in the morning was next to impossible, thanks to a headache and the sunlight burning my eyes. Trying to get out of the comfort my bed proved difficult, but eventually I managed to escape. I completed my morning schedule groggily; at the end of everything, my mind was very muddled. To make matters worse, that short florist had decided to make a permanent space in my head. Every so often, even during work, I would suddenly recall our encounter. I sighed and downed my second coffee today; I was clearly too tired to function.

     One very tedious work shift later, I was again walking down the same road as I had the previous day, hands in my pockets and head in the clouds. I always preferred walking to work; the distance was manageable, the exercise was nice, and I saved gas. I walked past the same shops every day, though I had only actually ventured into a few of them. When I approached the florist, I hesitated, staring at the glass store front. Fuck it. I approached the door and forcibly pushed the door open, flinching at the twinkly sound of the bells.

     As I walked deeper into the store, the mixing scents of the flowers overwhelmed me. I felt much more unsettled than the last time I’d come by, and cursed the redhead. Crossing the store today seemed to take longer, though that was illogical; it was just my anxiety, surely. When I reached the counter, I found Hinata wasn’t even manning the store today. In his place stood a man, likely a year or two older than myself, with fine, silver hair. I considered backing out, but the clerk looked over smiled at me, signaling he’d seen me. I decided turning around now would just make me look more ridiculous, so, posture uncomfortable, I approached the counter.

     “Hello, how may I help you?” He smiled, softer than Hinata’s had been, but just as sincere.

     I thought for a moment, and went with impulse, “Violets?”

     The florist nodded and walked in the same direction Hinata had the previous day, mirroring his actions. I absently wondered if it was normal to go to a florist two days in a row and ask for the same flowers, but as I’ve mentioned, I’m not very interested in flowers. Asking me to name a flower breed off the top of my head is next to useless. Standing there thinking would have been awkward, so I went with the only flower I had ever bothered to remember. It was about then the other man returned, flowers in hand.

     “Here you are. Are they alright?” He asked as he gently handed them to me. I looked them over briefly; he had wrapped them in silver tissue paper with an indigo ribbon-bow. I nodded to him, and he entered the information on the register. After he carefully read the price, I handed the money over. It was fortunate for me that flowers aren’t terribly expensive.

     I gave him what was probably a half-smile and thanked him. I hesitated before reaching my hand out, “I’m Kageyama Tobio.”

     The florist had begun to turn away, so he looked my way again. He took my hand and shook it, “Sugawara Koushi. My friends call me Suga, and so can you.” He winked.

     I considered asking about Hinata, but ultimately decided to ask in a less suspicious way, “Isn’t there, uh, someone else that works here?”

     Suga appeared to think a moment before responding, “Yes, there’s another florist, Hinata.”

     I nodded, “Oh.” I shrugged, “Not here today?”

     He laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, he took the day off. You’re welcome to come see him tomorrow, though.” He teased.

     I blanched, and scowled, “No thanks. He’s a pain.”

     Suga laughed good-heartedly and shrugged, “Sometimes. Well, be seeing you, Kageyama.”

     I nodded, “Right.” With that, I hastened out of the shop and walked the rest of the way home as quickly as I could.

     Once I was in the security of my bedroom, I unwrapped the violets and laid them on my rarely used desk. I neatly folded the silver tissue paper and set it on the far corner of the desk, deciding I might find use for it later. I stared at the violets and sighed; Hinata hadn’t been there today. Something about that fact just make this whole situation bother me more. I wanted to put an end to this by seeing him again. But now I’m more interested than I was before. I sighed harshly and sat on my bed, back to the wall. This was stupid.

     I closed my eyes tightly and concentrated, scowling. I don’t like people; I’ve never been interested in someone like this before. I’ve had one boyfriend in my life, and I never had this sort of spark; it happened gradually. So what was it about that guy that was so strongly drawing me to him? He was charismatic, too much so, but he was also cute; he was irritating, but sincere… I groaned and hit my head against my wall. This wasn’t going to solve itself or simply go away, it seemed. I stood too quickly, the room spinning for a moment and I vaguely thought that I probably needed to drink more water. I rolled my neck and shoulders, and headed to the shower.

     When I finished drying off and dressing, I returned to my bedroom and shuffled under my blankets. I turned so I was facing my wall and closed my eyes, submitting to letting my thoughts wander as they may. OF course, most of these wayward thoughts were of that damned florist. Hinata Shouyou, Hinata Shouyou, Hinata Shouyou. I pulled one of my pillows over my head and groaned. This isn’t going anywhere good, is it?


	4. -04-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata POV

     The day after I met Kageyama, I was admittedly not in the mood to do anything. At all. I just wanted to lay in bed all day while I mourned over this stupid crush. So, eventually I chose the selfish route and reached for my cell phone. Suga was one of my speed dials at this point, so after I stared remorsefully at his name for several extended moments, I dialed him. When he answered, he sounded sleepy.

     “Hey Suga, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” I figured I sounded off, but regretfully I know I’m not good at masking this sort of thing, and Suga has learned to read me like a book anyway.

     He laughed, “No, no, I was just getting up. What do you need Hinata?” There was a small smile in his voice, and it was relieving. I could always count on Suga to make me feel better.

     I bit my lip, “Well, uh, you know how I took the shift yesterday for you?” I sat up, “I hate to ask you to return the favor so soon after, but I’m not really feeling well today.” I hated knowing I wasn’t telling Suga the whole truth, and hoped he’d be understanding. He usually is, though.

     “You need to take the day off? That’s fine, I can manage myself. I did ask you to cover for me suddenly yesterday, after all. Are you alright? Need me to get you anything?”

     Guilt hung heavy in my chest. Suga was worrying for me and I was taking the day off for a ridiculous reason. I coughed, “No, I’m fine. Thanks a lot, Suga.”

     “Sure thing! Feel better soon, alright? We can’t have our sunshine florist getting ill.”

     After I hung up, I fell back onto my pillows. It was low of me to ask Suga to work the store by himself so I could essentially mope. But I have a bad history of being lonely; I’ve been single for pretty much ever, only having two short lived relationships. I struggle with feeling like I need everyone I know to notice and love me. I’m usually alright; I has plenty of really good friends that support me. But I still feel like I’m lacking something, or rather, some _one_. That _special_ someone. I’m sure it doesn’t help the matter when I’m surrounded with couples, but the point remains: I am pathetically lonely.

     And now added onto this loneliness is this dumb, sad crush I developed for someone I may never even see again. I sigh and roll over, knowing I shouldn’t just lay in bed and mope. I shouldn’t let myself stew in this negativity, but getting up and cheering myself up seemed to be too much effort for me right now. So I figure I’ll just get it out of my system now.

     Apparently at some point in my pity party I fell asleep, because when I woke up, it was to Kenma knocking on my bedroom door asking if I’d like something for lunch. I declined his offer with a thanks, and he asked again if I was alright. I responded with an affirmative, once again claiming I was just not feeling too well. He looked reluctant, but ultimately the relented and offered a “Get better,” before closing my door. I played some video game I had been working on, and eventually fell asleep again.

     When I reawoke this time, it was closer to evening, and my phone was vibrating, rattling on my desk. I sat up and groggily reached for the device, accepting the call and moving it to my ear.

     I mumbled, “H’llo?”

     The answering laughing was all I needed to hear to identify the caller, “Good morning sleepyhead. Feeling better?” Suga warmly asked.

     After a moment of silent introspection, I evaluated that I did indeed feel better, “Yeah, I think so. How was the shop today?”

     His voice was particularly playful when he answered, “It was just fine. Someone was asking for you, though.”

     I raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused, “Eh?”

     He laughed again, “A man by the name of Kageyama came by. He asked about you. Ring any bells?”

     The name was enough to light my face on fire. I refrained from smothering my face into my pillow, and instead responded to my coworker, “Oh, really? What- what happened?”

     He hummed, “He didn’t say much he just bought a bouquet of flowers, and asked about ‘the other florist that works here.’”

     “Did he happen to get violets?” I tried to keep my voice even, and mostly uninterested. I tried to keep the building worry from showing especially, because if he got violets, then he really _might_ be seeing someone.

     “You must know him if you already knew what flowers he was getting,” Suga replied light heartedly.

     Meanwhile my heart sunk. His significant other must like violets, then. Meaning… _Damnit._

     Suga broke the silence then, “Well, I’ll let you go back to resting. I just wanted to check in on you.”

     “Thanks, Suga, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He returned the farewell before hanging up.

     _Violets huh._ Damnit Kageyama… Why did you come to our flower shop? I grit my teeth and rolled onto my stomach, not bothering to stop the tears stinging at my eyes. This is so dumb.


	5. -05-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama POV  
> Sorry for the delay, to make up for it, I'll be putting up the next four chapters instead of just two. Enjoy - Anders

     Work the following day was more boring than usual, and I was relatively rushing to get everything done. It was becoming obvious I needed to see that redhead again. I needed to talk to him, I needed to get this _thing_ out of my system. I needed to regain control of my life. I just wanted to go back to the normalcy I was accustomed to; the schedules, the mundane of everything before that florist invaded everything. I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t sleep. It was preposterous and I needed it to stop.

     I was beyond frustrated with myself at this point. I’ve never felt the need to see someone before, or to just talk to someone for no reason. It was always by means of what was convenient. I talked to whoever was close by, who I didn’t have to reach out to. I never felt the need to pursue anyone. To seek them out just for an idle _chat._ Maybe if I specifically needed something from someone, I’d look for them. But what could I possibly need or even _want_ from this florist? Nothing I could come up with.

     Still, as the clock struck five, I found myself walking out the door and heading straight for the flower shop. The walk was as short as it always was, and the door’s jingle bells were at least mostly welcome this time. I took a few steps into the shop, measuring my breaths, before I saw the flash of red hair. Hinata was, back turned to the door, working on something or other behind the cashier desk. I couldn’t quite see what it was from this distance, though. I approached slowly, gnawing on my lower lip. Before I could properly sneak up on the short man, however, I heard a voice to my right.

     “Kageyama, how are you today?” Sugawara greeted, walking towards me. I tried to smile back and waved.

     Hinata spun on his heel, “Kageyama? Hey!” He smiled at me, but for a second it almost looked like his eyes were shimmering.

     I casually nodded at him, and he chirped, “Need some flowers?”

     “Yeah, actually-“ Hinata cut me off, “Violets?” He supplied.

     I shut my mouth and nodded awkwardly. Was I that predictable? I waited as he dashed off to fetch the flowers. He remembered? Why bother?

     Sugawara just laughed quietly to himself after observing us, and headed off in another direction to continue with whatever he had been working on. After a moment of odd silence, Hinata reappeared with a bouquet in hand. He handed them off to me and typed into the register. I handed him the money before he could actually announce the total, though. He handed my change back, and I once again noticed just how warm his fingers felt against my palm. How was he so warm? Did he just naturally run at 100 degrees?

     He laughed and leaned an elbow on the counter, resting his cheek in his palm and looking up at me, “So, are you going to tell me who this mystery person is today?”

     I scowled at him. This again? There is no one, but I can’t just tell him that I’m buying _myself_ flowers…

     “It’s still none of your business.” I stated flatly.

     “Oh come on Kageyama! Suga mentioned you stopped by yesterday too. So there must be _someone_ you’re buying these for!” He challenged.

     I stopped a moment, just staring at him. His cheeks had very slightly flushed, and his eyes weren’t as playful as they had been the other day. Why did he care so much? I quipped, “Why does it matter to you?”

     He laughed, all the intensity suddenly seeming to evaporate, “Alright, alright! Fine, you win. But you’ll tell me someday!” He smiled.

     _Like hell I will._ I grumbled, “Sure, maybe someday.” Instead.

     We went back and forth a couple more times before Sugawara popped up to remind Hinata they needed to close soon. I was shortly after ushered out by the shorter florist, who told me to come again. After a lot of internal debate, and admitting this thing with Hinata wasn’t just going to fade away, I did come back the day after. And then the day after that, and the day after. Soon enough it had become a new part of my schedule.

     After work, I would stop by the flower shop where I greeted Sugawara (who has begun to insist I call him Suga) and buy more violets. Then, I talk with Hinata for a while, dodging every question he asks about the flowers’ recipient. We would talk about anything, everything, and nothing in the hour span we had between my work ending and their shop closing. After they closed (they started being more lenient with kicking me out as soon as six hit), I headed home with more violets that did little else than sit on my desk. I threw out the flowers that wilted, replacing them with newer ones, and occasionally considered drying or pressing them.

     Eventually I did start pressing them in my old text books. Though it allowed me to keep the violets, it also ate up more space, and after my desk was covered, I moved on to the top of my dresser. After about a month and a half, pressed violets were scattered everywhere around my room.

     Along with a month and a half of pressed flowers came Hinata and Suga’s phone numbers, and many conversations with Hinata. At this point I had ruled out every possibility but one for what I was feeling, but I didn’t know how to deal with it. I had never had any real feelings for anyone before, and have only dated once; it was rather short-term, though, before he and I decided to continue being solely platonic. I didn’t like people, so I figured I’d never have to concern myself with harboring a… _crush_ on someone. Especially not a short, over excited florist with wild, flaming hair.

     But I was happy enough, all things considered. Hinata and I were getting relatively close, close enough that I may even consider asking him out some day. But not yet; I’m still too unused to these feelings. Still too unused to wanting someone around and wanting to interact with someone all the time. It was all so strange and yet it was almost… exciting. I enjoyed talking to Hinata, and even enjoyed those few moments in which we were both quiet and simply stood close to each other. I found myself wishing he was there when I wasn’t with him. Especially when I was in my apartment, when I was sleeping alone… I grumbled and rolled over so my face was pressed into my pillow. Romantic feelings are such a hassle and so embarrassing.


	6. -06-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata POV

     Just before 5pm, I rushed to the back of the store to pick out the prettiest violets we had for Kageyama’s bouquet, humming as I did. I started doing this a couple weeks ago, when I was sure he was going to be coming back consistently. It made me happy to see him here just about every day, but it didn’t make it any easier for me to throw this crush. In fact, it was always very bittersweet in the flowers, I loved seeing the small smile Kageyama gave me when he thanked me, but there was always something painful about putting the bouquet together, knowing Kageyama would be handing them off to someone else… Probably with a kiss…

     “Hinata, are you back here?” Sugawara peeked into the back room and smiled when he spotted me. His smile fell when he saw my face though, likely noticing the tears on my cheeks.

     He approached slowly and patted my shoulder comfortingly before wrapping his arm around my shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

     I tried for a laugh, but it came out weak and pathetic, “I’m just over thinking things probably.”

     Suga nodded, “Wanna tell mama-Suga about it?”

     I genuinely laughed at his use of our old volleyball club’s nickname for him. Then I sighed, “Suga, do you think he’s seeing anyone?”

     Suga looked at the violets I was forlornly staring at. I kind of hated that he didn’t even need to ask who I was talking about. He squeezed my shoulders, “Well, I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

     I set the flowers down gently, so I couldn’t throw them in frustration, “He always gets so flustered when I ask what they’re for! So obviously he _has_ to be getting them for _someone_ right?”

     Suga sighed, “Well, that could be true. But we don’t know that. _You_ don’t know that. Maybe Kageyama just likes flowers? He could be embarrassed to admit he likes them.”

     I grit my teeth, “But why would he come by here nearly _every day?_ That’s a lot of flowers, Suga!”

     “Why don’t you ask him?” Suga brought me back to the table I had been working at, and wrapped his arm around me again, “Don’t ask who the flowers are for. Don’t even ask about them. Instead, just straight up ask him, ‘Kageyama, are you dating someone?’”

     I buried my face in my hands to hide my distinct blush, “I couldn’t do that! It would be too embarrassing!”

     He laughed, and after a small silence, he asked softly, “You really like him, don’t you?”

     I groaned and minutely nodded, “More than I thought.”

     Seeing him every day, talking with him so often, slowly learning more about him every time we talked had turned this crush into something more. And considering the circumstances, something worse.

\---

     After we finally closed, I slammed the door shut behind me, shouting, “I can’t _believe_ him!”

     Suga quickly locked the door behind us before rushing to catch up with me, “Hinata I’m sure there’s a reason-“

     “For ditching me? This just puts the icing on the cake!” I jammed my hands in my pockets, idly watching my breath puff rapidly into the cold air.

     Suga placed a hand on my shoulder, “Hinata, would you like me to walk you home?”

     I sighed and shook my head, forcing myself to calm down a fraction. I shouldn’t be snapping at Suga, and I need to stop worrying him, “No, no, I’ll be fine. Thanks Suga. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

     He returned my smile, though both were forced and we both knew it, and nodded unsurely before we headed in separate directions. I decided, partway down the street, that after such a long, bad day, the best thing would be a cup of coffee from my favorite café before heading home. Luckily that café was only a short walk down the street and stayed open rather late. The idea of a warm mocha during this chilled evening made me significantly happier, and I walked quickly.

     When I got to the coffee shop, I smiled as the warmth surrounded and enjoyed the comfortable sounds of indie music and soft voices mingling. I strolled up to the counter and ordered my mocha, stepping to the side while I waited for it. While waiting, I thought I spotted Kageyama out of the corner of my eye. It was then that my drink was finished and I had to turn the opposite way to retrieve my drink. When I turned back, sure enough, Kageyama was leisurely sitting at a booth sipping at a coffee. I considered speaking up, possibly sitting with him until I noticed something. Adjacent to him, there was a second cup of coffee, still full and steaming.

     Before I had too much time to consider the second cup, a cold breeze hit me as someone opened the door. The man that walked through was tall, probably taller than Kageyama, even. He had a light blue and white winter coat on, and light brown, wavy hair. He had an air about him that said he thought he was superior to everyone else, and I instantly didn’t like him.

     He walked past me like I didn’t exist and looked around the shop, clearly looking for someone. Then, my world shattered when he opened his mouth. He had paused when he was looking in Kageyama’s direction, and started to saunter over towards him. Once nearby, he announced warmly, “Tobio-chan!”

     Kageyama looked up just in time to be pulled from his seat and tightly hugged by this newcomer who I belatedly realized was his date. I quickly turned and ran out of the shop, earning several odd looks but only focusing on not dropping my cup with how shaky my hands suddenly were. I finally had it; the proof I had thought I’d wanted. I finally had a picture for the significant other I suspected he had. I hated myself for the way the scene was making my vision blur with tears.

     I hated the way I ran home, crying the entire way. I hated the fact that I had to thank every deity I could think of that Kenma and Kuroo were out tonight. I hated the fact that I whole heartedly resented them and their relationship in that moment. I chose to forgo a shower and just stripped to my boxers and crawled into my bed.

     ‘Crushes… They linger until I’m in ruins/’ I squeezed my eyes shut. I hated how true that was. I hated that I was so in deep with these feelings. I hated that man that showed up to the coffee shop. I hated violets. But no matter what, I couldn’t bring myself to hate Kageyama. I only hated more than anything that I was pathetically, undeniably, completely in love with Kageyama Tobio.


	7. -07-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama POV

     As the end of the day approached, I began repeatedly glancing at my watch. I was counting down the minutes until I would finally be off work, and it was dragging along as always. Lately, I had taken to doing this to track how much time was remaining before I could go to the flower shop and see Hinata. Today, though, I was actually waiting to go somewhere and see someone else.

     Oikawa Tooru and I have been friends since my first year of junior high, though he had already been a third year then. We were in the same volleyball club, though we ended up going to different high schools and universities. We had even dated for a while, but in the end decided to remain friends. Somehow we ended up keeping in touch through the years. We had our differences, and for a long while we had a rather hate-hate sort of relationship. Perhaps ironically, it only really changed for the better after we decided to break up, just before he graduated high school.

     Now, in the present, we met up whenever we were able and caught up over coffee. We generally filled the in-betweens with a few phone calls, seeing as we lived in different towns and our jobs didn’t generally give us spare time that fell into place. Today he had the day off work, so he decided to come over here. So, when I was finally off the clock, I walked down the street, regrettably past the flower shop until I came to a café on a street corner.

     I’m loathe to admit it was rather difficult to just walk past the flower shop.

     At the café, I ordered for the both of us and chose a table that was close enough to the entrance to be easily seen. At the café in both towns we had two regular tables; this happened to be the first table we’d ever sat at in this café. I then subjected myself to the wait for Oikawa; despite having the whole day off, he somehow always found a way to be late.

     Just before Oikawa had showed up, I was almost certain I saw Hinata, but before I could investigate further, I found myself being smothered by someone sporting a light colored winter coat. Well, at least he finally made it. After his hug-assault, Oikawa smoothly removed his coat and hung it on the back of his chair, flamboyant as ever. He sat across the table and remarked that he was surprised I remembered what coffee he liked. He was wearing a smirk and said something about my poorer taste in coffee, but I only half heard him, since I was preoccupied with scanning the entry way for that florist.

     Presumably fed up with my lack of attention, Oikawa made a show of scooting his chair over and leaning too close to the side of my face, stage whispering, “What are we looking at, Tobio-chan?”

     I finally snapped my attention back to my friend, and forcefully shoved him away from me. He looked wounded before finally moving back to his prior place. I sighed and propped my elbow on the table to support my face, “Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw someone. It was nothing.” I met his eyes, “How have you been?”

     Oikawa’s face lit up, absolutely ecstatic to be able to talk about himself.

\---

     We talked for a few hours wherein I learned of recent events in Oikawa’s life. Most notably, I learned that his boyfriend, Iwaizumi, finally asked him to move in with him. Eventually, though, he asked me how I’ve been. I shrugged and told him about my job, mostly, until he decided to pry further.

     “So, Tobio-chan. Is there anyone… _Special?_ ” His smile was innocent looking enough, but his eyes shone with mischievousness. It suddenly reminded me of my first encounter with Hinata.

     I shrugged, tossing, “That’s not really important.”

     His smile widened, “C’mon tell me~” He whined.

     I sighed, knowing this was a battle I would never win. I crossed my arms on the table and leant forward, “Okay, fine. There isn’t anyone.”

     Oikawa laughed, “Tobio-chan, you are a terrible liar.”

     I grumbled, knowing he really had me now, “Fuck, fine Oikawa, there is.”

     Oikawa smiled smugly, “So? Who is he?”

     “His name’s Hinata; he’s a florist” I resigned to answering so he would hopefully get bored and drop the subject. He didn’t, of course.

     After the café closed, Oikawa decided to hang around my apartment for a couple hours before he headed home. At the door, he pulled me into another bear-hug and promised to call soon. His last words, though, were “Good luck with Hinata,” and I instantly regretted telling him.

     Thoroughly exhausted, as I was any time I hung around Oikawa, I fell into my bed and passed out with little trouble.

\---

     The next day, I was checking my watch twice as much as normal, needing the day to just _end._ When it finally did and I was free, I rushed to the flower shop, worried Hinata would be upset that I hadn’t showed up the day prior. Then, outside the door, I laughed at myself, wondering why I thought my presence or lack thereof mattered to Hinata at all. I was still just a customer.

     When I entered the door, bells clinking as always, I instantly noticed no one was up front. I walked up to the register and leaned against it; this wasn’t the first time this has happened. It didn’t take long for Hinata to round the corner, but when he saw me, he looked rather surprised. A negative sort of surprised, though.

     I turned to face him, “Suga off today?” I commented.

     Hinata shrugged, avoiding my eye, “Yeah he had something to do today so he asked me to run the shop by myself.”

     I crossed my arms and leaned my hip against the counter, “Doing alright by yourself? You seem off.”

     I was fairly certain he flinched at my words, and he still refused to look any higher than my shins, but chose not to mention it. He huffed, “It isn’t like I haven’t run the shop myself before.”

     “Right. Sorry.” I mumbled before a rather heavy silence filled the shop.

     Hinata was the one to break it, “Sorry I’m just tired. Did you need something? Flowers?”

     “Oh, uh, yeah. Violets?” I didn’t really believe that he was just tired; I’ve seen him tired. He slumps over any relatively horizontal surface and he whines a lot. But he’s still playful and bright. This was something else, and I couldn’t help worry about it.

     He laughed at my request and remarked, “Yeah, you don’t need to remind me.”

     He rushed his walk to the back, and it was then that I was left alone. That wasn’t the first time he’s laughed at me, but it was the first time his laugh has ever sounded hollow and bitter. The fact that it was taking so long for him to come back made my worry increase, and I briefly considered walking into the back room to see if he was alright. I haven’t been back there yet but I’m sure Suga would understand.

     The longer it took for him to return, the more I worried. When he finally did, the small bouquet he handed me seemed less meticulously crafted than usual. I also found it odd that the tissue paper was a shimmery off-white and the ribbon light blue. Nearly the same colors as Oikawa’s coat had been. It was a strange coincidence, I’m sure.

     I stared at him in silence, trying to figure out what may be wrong, and what to say to him to convey my concern.

     “What, are they not good enough for your boo?” He stated tiredly. He still hadn’t looked me in the eyes once since I had come in.

     I raised an eyebrow, “What? No, they’re fine, but-“

     Then he snapped at me, “I need to get ready to close, so you should go.”

     I grit my teeth, “What the hell is your problem?”

     He finally looked up at me, to glare, “I already told you, I’m _tired._ Please just go, okay?”

     Sensing that now was not a good time to pick a fight, I backed down.

     “Alright. I’ll see you later, Hinata.”

     The walk home was colder than it had been in a long time; lacking the warm energy Hinata usually gave me.


	8. -08-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata POV

     When Kageyama walked through the door the day after “the café incident,” my world froze. If there was one thing I didn’t want happening, it was seeing him. For some reason after last night, I didn’t think I ever would again. But then I internally laughed at myself and my foolishness; why would it change anything when he hadn’t even seen me last night. It changed nothing for him while it changed everything for me.

     When he left and I locked myself securely in the building, I slid to the floor and huddled in on myself. I hadn’t intended things to go that way; I hadn’t intended on snapping at him like that. I probably only made things worse between us, treating him the way I did. It’s not his fault he has a gorgeous boyfriend and I have a bad case of love for him. I’m upset and heartbroken and my world has been flipped upside-down while he’s prancing around totally fine. Can anyone really blame me for breaking?

     Suga called while I was walking home to check up on me. I told him I was fine, but it being Suga, he called the lie immediately and offered to give me tomorrow off. I sighed in defeat and accepted, knowing it would probably be for the better anyways. I was in no condition to be at work, trying to interact with anyone like this. And as today proved, Kageyama would keep coming to the flower shop, so it was better I not be able to see him.

     The next day I slept a lot, only staying awake when Kenma offered to make breakfast for me in the morning and sometime in the evening. Kenma asked what was wrong while I ate, and I spilled everything to him, my thoughts and tears. I admittedly felt better after that, but as soon as Kenma had to leave for his own job, I felt empty and alone again. I slept because sleeping was so much better than being awake and thinking about Kageyama; which was all I could think about. Him and his boyfriend.

     He had even showed up in some of my dreams, and it was always the same sequence of events. He’d come to the flower shop looking a mess, and tell me he’s broken up with his boyfriend. He’d admit that he had feelings for me all along, and I’d smile and tell him I felt the same. He’d pull me into a hug, or I’d leap into his arms, and sometimes we would kiss. Then I’d get to spend some time with him; usually just a day in what must have been a dream rendition of what his apartment might look like. It always felt so real, too real, and it was always soul crushing when I woke up to the same situation as I was in before.

     Then, I’d shed some tears, roll over, and force myself to fall asleep again.

     Admittedly, when I returned to work the following day, I felt a little better, but I was still very far from 100%. Suga smiled when he saw me in the morning and noted that I looked a little better. But he knew I was far from fine; I could tell in the sympathetic looks he gave me, and the several extra hugs throughout the day. I wasn’t surprised Suga could tell, though, since Suga always knows.

     That night, when I saw Kageyama approaching the door, I shouted something to Suga about needing the bathroom before he’d gotten to the door. I hid in the bathroom, ear pressed to the door, until I heard Suga’s trademark closing words and the bells jingle behind him. When I crept out, I got a disapproving look from Suga, who was waiting at the counter with his arms crossed.

     “What was that about, Hinata?” He questioned lightly, small smile still in place.

     I fidgeted, knowing this was a precarious situation. I settled with, “I just don’t really wanna see him, you know?”

     He looked me over, “Does this have anything to do with why you’ve been an utter mess over the past few days?”

     I quickly laughed, “What? No, no! There’s nothing-“

     He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips, just staring at me in silence. He wasn’t buying any of my lies and I knew it. So, before I could really dig my grave, I grit my teeth and told him everything. I told him about my feelings for Kageyama (or rather, the extent of those feelings), about the café, about seeing his boyfriend, about the next day when Kageyama came in, the dreams, I told Suga everything. He was silent through it all, just stepping closer to rub comforting circles on my back. He ignored the fact that I’d started crying, too.

     “You should talk to him,” was the first thing Suga said when I finished my tirade.

     We were now sitting on the floor behind the counter, so I pulled my knees up and buried my face there.

     “I don’t want to. Not yet, not right now.”

     Suga laughed, and said that was alright. But then he sighed quietly and turned towards me, “eventually you need to talk to him. Hopefully before too long.”

     After two weeks of successfully avoiding Kageyama, be it through text or his stops by the shop, Sugawara cornered me. It was just after closing, the doors and window shutters were closed, and he told me to hold up. He looked very displeased, which was my first hint to run, but he had strategically stood such that I couldn’t escape through the front doors or into the back. He literally had me backed into a corner. I knew I deserved this, but I wasn’t ready to face this; I wasn’t ready to face Kageyama.

     The way Suga calmly said my name was on the verge of terrifying, and I sheepishly croaked out a, “Y-yeah?”

     “You can’t keep avoiding him.” His voice was ice cold, and left no room for argument. I tried anyway.

     I scowled, “Why not?”

     He sighed and took a step forward, causing me to step back. He crossed his arms, “I won’t cover for you anymore, Hinata. You need to talk to him.”

     Knowing there was no way to convince him otherwise, I crumpled, and muttered a broken, “Okay.”

     Suga relaxed and smiled, then, patting my shoulder comfortingly, “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

     “I hope so,” was squeaked before I bit down on my lip.

     I ran home and ignored Kenma and Kuroo’s greetings. I shut my door hurriedly, locked it, and dove for my bed. I clutched my extra pillow tight and tried to control my breathing, but it wasn’t working.

     Tomorrow. I had to face him tomorrow. I had to _talk_ to him tomorrow. And Suga expected me to _tell him_ tomorrow. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to pretend tomorrow wouldn’t come.

     I accidentally fell asleep, and next thing I knew, it was sunrise.


	9. -09-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama POV

     It wasn’t hard to realize Hinata was avoiding me like the plague. The real mystery, the thing that was keeping me awake late into the night and burning my mind during the day was _why._ No matter how many days and conversations I replayed over and over in my mind, I couldn’t pinpoint where the mistake was made, or more so _what it was._ I could not, for the life of me, figure out what it was I did that made Hinata mad enough that he would even start avoiding work to get away from me.

     After more than half a month of this avoidance I started to grow tired of this rut. I was tired of stopping by the shop only to have Sugawara give me a sympathetic look while he spoke to me. I was infinitely more tired of faintly hearing movement from the back room and knowing it was Hinata; holed up back there waiting for me to leave. The whole building was starting to have a poor effect on my mentality, so after some consideration, I decided to cut it.

     Admittedly I had gotten used to going to the shop every day, so without it I felt like my day was lacking. I am a person of habit, so once I get used to doing something every day it’s very hard to just instantly drop it. I found it strange, considering before meeting Hinata I had never cared that I went straight home after work. Never thought twice about the fact that besides work I hardly went out. I had never felt like my life was lacking before; I had a few close friends and I had a stable job and housing. What more could I want?

     Unfortunately, I knew what more I could want. It was a person whom I had started to feel lonely without. It was a florist that could easily be the literal embodiment of the sun. It was a relationship, and I thought I was _so close_ to making it a reality. But somewhere along the way I apparently made a fatal error, and he no longer wanted to have anything to do with me.

     I started spending most of my off time in bed, just watching shitty television or random online videos. Not caring about anything anymore. While I laid there I often thought. I found myself wondering many times what had happened to me. Since when did I let one person affect me so much? Even Oikawa, when we broke up, hardly made me blink. I just accepted it and moved on; we were able to stay friends even. But this florist had completely stirred my very existence up, had made me feel things I never thought I would, had made me think things I never thought I would care about. And just as suddenly as he’d appeared in my life, he vanished. He’d apparently taken all of my happiness with him.

     Despite the fact that I was trying to hide away and keep to myself, Oikawa started calling me more often than he used to. He noticed I wasn’t responding to texts as frequently, and stated that he was concerned. For Oikawa to express concern for another person, especially _me_ , I knew I must be in a sorry state. He eventually got the story out of me, and he told me I was overreacting. So I promptly hung up on him. Shortly after, he called back and apologized, stating that it wasn’t like me to get bothered over something like this. As if I needed him of all people telling me that.

     I continued hiding in my room, only venturing out for work, for three weeks. At some point I started driving to work, preferring the wasted gas to having to walk past the flower shop. After that, I stopped keeping myself as neat as I always had; forgetting to shave more days than not, showering every other day more frequently than daily, and even wearing dirty clothing two to three times. I was a wreck, and it was very apparent. But I was too tired and sad to do anything about it. I was coasting along as best I could, but everything felt hollow.

     At the end of the third week Oikawa was doing one of his “damage control” calls. The first thing he asked was how often I’d been going outside, besides the short commute to work and back. Unsatisfied with my answer of “I haven’t,” he moved onto asking how much I’ve been eating. He was also upset with my answer to that question, “I haven’t.”

     So he snapped at me, telling me I need to stop being a shut in. I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I stayed! silent. He was used to our arguments, so when I said nothing, he must have again realized how bad my condition must be. He started speaking more calmly, though I knew that was difficult for him; it wasn’t in his character to seriously discuss problems with people.

     We both were silent for a couple minutes before he spoke up, “Tobio, if he means this much to you, just tell him how you feel.”

     The use of my first name alone was my first hint to listen. But I shut down by the end of his statement. I _can’t even talk_ to Hinata, let alone tell him how I feel. At some point, I screwed up everything we had going so badly he won’t even look at me. How can I tell him that at some point I fell in love with him? He hides in the back room and refuses to come out when I walk into the flower shop. How do I tell him that everything he does is so endearing it makes my chest physically ache? I don’t deal with people, so how do I function with one?

     “Tobio-chan. I’m sure you’re doubting yourself right now.” He laughed easily, “You were always good at that. But I know you can do it. And I think you _need_ to.”

     I finally managed to manipulate my vocal chords long enough to bite, “Fuck off.”

     Oikawa just laughed, assuming I hadn’t really meant it, and after chattering to me four a short while longer, he wished me a good night, and asked me to try to get some sleep.

     That night I did not sleep. All I could think about was Oikawa’s suggestion. _If he means this much to you, just tell him how you feel._ I covered my eyes with my arm. _How? Oikawa, you’re better at this than I am. How do I tell him I love him?_

     As if he’d been reading my mind, my phone vibrated from my bedside table. It was, predictably, a text from Oikawa, reading: _The first step, Tobio-chan, is going to the flower shop. Just go with it from there._

I grit my teeth and tossed my phone back on the side table, muttering, “easy for you to say.”

     At some point I fell asleep like that; trying to decide what to do.


	10. -10-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now we finish this up.

     As it would turn out, the “tomorrow” I had been dreading so dearly never came. When I’d arrived at work that day, Suga reminded me he was utterly serious, and wouldn’t cover for me anymore. He said when Kageyama stopped by that evening, it would be me that got his flowers, and me that talked to him. By talk to him, of course, Suga meant “tell him you’re hopelessly in love with him.” I spent the entire day nervous for this confrontation, but somehow, I was also ready to put an end to this. I was ready to either date Kageyama or know for certain that it was hopeless.

     When we closed that evening with a distinct lack of violet bouquet orders, I didn’t know what to think. I knew it was my fault. I knew it had been me who drove Kageyama away; I made it plenty obvious I didn’t want to see him after all. But after everything that had happened, I was ready as I ever would be to tell him the truth. As the hour approached, I was actually almost looking forward to telling him everything. I was as nervous as I had ever felt in my life, but I was ready to say what needed to be said.

     I never got the chance. After that evening, Kageyama stopped coming to the shop altogether. It had been two weeks since I’d seen him up close, two weeks since I had started pathetically avoiding him. At the time, I hadn’t known it would be an additional month before I saw him again, and that month was the loneliest of my life. After the first week, I considered texting Kageyama, or calling him, but ultimately couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone. I didn’t feel I deserved his attention anyway, seeing as this was all my fault. I shut Kageyama out and ignored him, of course he would eventually give up.

     By the end of the month, I was a walking train wreck and I had long since stopped trying to hide it. I wasn’t getting enough sleep; regret and guilt ate at me whenever I closed my eyes. I had lost my appetite and had trouble focusing. Suga was trying his best to keep me afloat, as was Kenma, but I was too heartbroken to truly function. Even if he’d had a boyfriend, I knew now that I cherished Kageyama as a friend, too, and not having him at all was destroying me. But no matter how much I thought about it, I didn’t know what to do about it, and seemingly no one else did either.

     It was the first day of the new month, and I was still a disaster. At the least I could fully manage working again, and Suga even felt confident enough to leave the shop to me while he ran an errand. It was around evening, the sun just starting to sink in the sky and casting a warm red-pink hue on the world. Suga promised to be back soon, and gave me a tight embrace before he left. I smiled at him, and set to watering plants when he was out the door. It was when I’d nearly watered all the plants that the bells twinkled.

     I turned to the door, ready to greet the new customer when I stopped dead. Everything stopped; my heart, my breath, the very fabric of time seemed to completely screech to a halt. Standing just inside the door in a black button-down shirt and slacks was Kageyama Tobio.

     Neither of us spoke, and for a long time, he barely looked my way. I ate up every detail about him as I could, though, as I had been dying to see him. He looked a little bent out of shape, his eyes were bruised with a prominent lack of sleep, his hair was mussed, and looked to be longer than it used to be. But even though he was clearly not at his best, he had this general structure to him; he was here with a purpose I assumed. Finally, after our pause had stretched on long enough to be painfully awkward, Kageyama spoke.

     “Hinata,” He started. His voice was heavy, tired, and the way he said my name still sent tingles down my spine. He finally looked up, “Would you like to have some coffee with me?”

     It took a minute for me to actually process what he’d just asked me. I felt as though I must be sleeping; I passed out at the counter again, and he was here. He was going to ask me out, and things were going to work out, because this was a dream. Still, I threw logic out the window and decided to play along with this dream, at least it was a decent one.

     I nodded slowly, “Alright… Would you mind waiting around until we close? Or do you want to meet up later?”

     He answer was quick, “I’d like to stay here.”

     I felt my cheeks burning red and nodded again, waving him over to the counter. He followed silently, until we were both standing in front of the counter, less than three feet from each other. If it weren’t so uncomfortably tense, I would probably be sobbing of happiness.

     He shuffled his feet a little before apprehensively asking, “Mind if I sit?”

     I nodded quickly, stuttering, “Oh, uh, yeah, sure!”

     After he’d sat on the ground with his back to the counter front, I decided to join him, careful to keep a distance between us. We didn’t talk, and Suga didn’t come back. When six rolled around, I stood and carefully reached a hand out to Kageyama. I knew he didn’t need the help up, and he did too, but he took my hand and let me help him anyways. It made me smile genuinely, the first time in a month, and I wondered if things might work out after all.

      I had guessed we’d be going back to that same café that started this mess, and was right. Instead of filling me with dread, though, I found it amusing. May as well end this where it started. We sat at a table in the back corner, and for some time we both remained silent. Slowly it shifted from the static filled tense silence to something more companionable, though, so I didn’t really mind.

     Kageyama cleared his throat when I finished my first coffee and he’d drained two, softly asking, “What happened?”

     I stared at him, not understanding what he meant for sure. He sighed and leaned his elbows on the table, entwining his fingers and pressing his forehead to them.

     “What did I do wrong, Hinata? You avoided me for two weeks.”

     Without hesitating, I shot back, “You avoided me for a month,” calmly.

     To my surprise, he _laughed._ But it was bitter and biting. “What was I supposed to do? You hid in the back every time I came to the shop!”

     I closed my mouth and stared at the table; he was right.

     “So, what did I do?” I dared to look up, and was met with very remorseful blue eyes.

     “It was-“ I bit my lip. Now or never, I suppose, “I saw you. In this café, a month and a half ago.”

     I paused while I tried to choke out the words, “With your boyfriend.”

     “What?” Kageyama looked genuinely confused, before a sudden clearance crossed his face.

     “That!” He huffed and wiped his face irritatedly, “That’s what this whole thing has been about?”

     I prepared to defend myself, but Kageyama raised a hand, “Hinata. He’s not my boyfriend.”

     I blanched. What did he just say?

     After a moment of clear apprehension, he reached out and very gently took one of my hands. I was too stunned to do anything, so I didn’t snatch my hand back, nor did I return the hand holding.

     “He’s… A good friend of mine, but we’re not dating. Hinata, is that really what this has been about?”

     I did nothing when I felt a tear slide down my face, and saw it hit the tabletop. My whole system felt fried, overstimulated, and I had no idea what I should, or could, say and do.

     “Hinata,” Kageyama mumbled, reaching out and brushing my cheek, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

     I looked up, assessing Kageyama’s expression. His face was stained red now, and it looked as though what he was about to say was difficult for him.

     “Those flowers. They were never for anyone else. The first bouquet was for my mom, but all the others I kept. I just…” He faltered and squeezed my hand, “I wanted to see you.”

     I wanted to scream, or run. I wanted to do _something_ to rid myself of the buzzing energy I suddenly felt, but before I did anything I wanted to be absolutely sure, so I whispered, “Why?”

     Kageyama sat silently for so long I thought he had decided against answering. But finally he said, voice shaky and uncomfortable, but not uncertain, “I love you.”

     I squeezed the hand that shakily held mine and released the laugh that had been bubbling from my throat. I was beyond ecstatic, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. This pining, this longing, this emptiness, had been requited. This _love_ that had enveloped my life was _requited._

     I jumped up, leaning over the table and kissed Kageyama on the spot, not caring at all who saw. Kageyama, _my boyfriend_ , hesitated, before he kissed back. It was short, and it was perfect, and it was the start of something amazing. And when, face a deep crimson, he asked me to come back to his apartment to watch Netflix, I was all too happy to agree.

     The first thing I saw in his bedroom were violets. Pressed violets scattered everywhere, on any remotely flat surface. I turned to him and smiled, teasing, “You know, you never struck me as the type to like flowers.”

     He turned me around and pecked my lips, before looking away and mumbling, “I didn’t. But you changed my mind.”

\---

     My name is Hinata Shouyou, and I love flowers. I love flowers because they’re bright, cheerful, unique, and full of life. But more than anything, I love flowers because they led me to my wonderful fiancé, Kageyama Tobio. 


End file.
